Saved By The Hitman

I can’t wait to check.

“I never had this crazy passion when I was a kid,” she says. “I know some people do. They know exactly what they want to do the moment they realize they’ll have to work someday. But I never did. I guess I just sort of flitted through my childhood. I read a lot of books. I imagined a lot. But mostly I felt like I was missing out.”

She pauses, looking down at the table. I reach over and take her hand, squeezing it in what I hope is a comforting way. She smiles briefly, just a flash of happiness through the remembered heartache, and then lets out a short breath.

“Missing out,” she murmurs. “It’s hard to quantify just how painful that can be. You’re sitting there, head buried in a book – and you’re enjoying it, of course, you are – but there’s this small part of you that’s thinking, What are the other girls from my class doing right now? Then I found event planning. I never miss out again. As strange as it is, I find it so fulfilling planning parties and functions, to see the faces of the guests light up when they arrive, and find that we’ve actually put the effort in. We’ve made it …”

“Special?” I offer when she trails off.

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Special. I know it sounds silly.”

“It doesn’t,” I growl passionately. “And I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

She flinches, looking at me under her dark eyelashes.

“Do what?”

“Downplay your passion,” I tell her. “There’s nothing wrong with having a fire in your belly, no matter what that fire is fueled by. You don’t have to be ashamed.”

“What about you?” she flares, giving my hand a squeeze.

“What about me?”

She tilts her head, suddenly sassy. The base of my cock gets tight and hungry.

My seed riots, urging me to be done with dinner.

“What sort of a kid were you?” she asks.

“Oh, much the same as you,” I tell her. “I spent a lot of my time alone. Only, I was in the woods. I was learning how to navigate, strengthening my body, learning how to trap and hunt and fish. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was learning the skills that would help me when I became a SEAL—and after.”

“Why alone?” she murmurs. “Were you nervous, like me?”

I laugh grimly. “I don’t know if nervous is the word. I was small and short when I was younger and the kids bullied me because of it. But then I grew taller, bigger, stronger. I hated how that changed them, how suddenly everybody started treating me nicely, started wanting to be my friend. It was pathetic. It was fear making them behave that way. So I thought, Fuck them.”

“So we’re the same in that way,” she murmurs.

“Two loners who’ve finally found the person they want to spend their life with,” I say, nodding.

She smiles at me, her cheeks glowing in the yellow lamplight. I find myself near-smiling back, not a smirk but not a fully-fledged smile either. I can’t remember the last time I actually smiled, without self-consciousness.

Maybe when I was a kid.

“This really is delicious,” she says after another mouthful of steak.

“I still can’t believe you take it well done,” I chuckle. “That really is sacrilege as far as I’m concerned.”

She giggles.

I’ll never get tired of hearing that sound, the soft sweetness of it.

“I keep waiting to wake up,” she says. “Any second now, I’ll snap awake in my apartment, with Rebel licking my face. All of this will have just drift away. I’ll be alone again.”

“Do you want to wake up?”

Her mouth falls open for a moment.

“Are you joking? Of course, I don’t. Finding you …”

She trails off, biting her lip.

So I finish it for her.

“Finding you,” I growl, “was the best thing that ever happened to me, Juliana.”

She makes a small whimpering noise, anxiety nestled inside it.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I just hope I don’t disappoint you,” she murmurs. “I hope I can, you know, take it—take you.”

Is she trying to turn me into a beast?

Her words conjure up an image of my throbbing, thick length pushing stubbornly into her tight soaked hole. I see her hole expanding around my cock, my cock that won’t take no for an answer. I feel her squirming and hear her whimpering as I drive deeper, and deeper until I’m buried up to the hilt and she’s stuck on the end of me.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

“Why are you sorry?” I growl, having to force the words out.

“You look really angry.”

“Angry?” I smirk. “Not quite. More like I’m thinking about bending you over that balcony railing and showing you how wrong you are right now. Your body wants this, Juliana. Your womb needs my seed. We were made for each other. There’s a reason I’ve never had sex with anyone. There’s a reason I waited for you.”